And please remember that this is just a sexual fantasy, OK? If you ever come into the possession of the spellbooks, please go to one of the TG discussion forums and ask for volunteers! I can guarantee you that you will get more playmates than you can handle.

The photos in this story are taken by Realitykings.com, which some of you may have realized by now is my richest source of pictures of beautiful women. You get access to some 16 sites if you subscribe to their service, and it is definitely worth the money.

3/13/2008

"She was supposed to be here now, and I need to make this photo shoot today, or else Comso will kill me. Get Isabelle here now, as you promised!"

The problem was that world famous fashion model Isabelle had decided that she was too damned important to be in Paris today. She was on Barbados, and there was no Concorde.

Richards was fucked. He had to find a solution!

Belle C. Bubh had a nose for trouble. She could sense it miles away, like a hyena smelling blood.

She entered the scene as the drama queen she was. Prada handbag. Next year's Gucci. Poison by Dior.

"Hmmm, sweet Richard. Maybe I can make you a deal. I get your soul and I bring you Isabelle. What do you say, my dear?"

"Sure Belle, by all means gloat. Where do I sign?"

"Here dear. There is no need to read it."

He didn't have much of a choice now, did he? Life long servitude to Belle was better than having no future in the fashion business at all.

"Oh Richard! Not with your pen. In blood, darling, in blood!"

"Ouch, you cut me!"

"Armand is waiting!"

He dipped the offered stylus in his blood and signed the paper.

"Thank you Richard, or should I say..."

It was like a lighting bolt had struck him and fell down on the floor in pain, convulsing.

"Ooooh, God. That hurts!"

"Sure!" Belle said and looked down at him in contempt. "Beauty equals pain. It always has."

Richard could feel his body changing, bones being rearranged, flesh being reshaped. He was getting thinner, much thinner.

Small mounds of soft flesh appeared on his chest. He grabbed them, in shock. These are tits, his mind screamed - looking for a way out.His skin darkened to deep, creamy, chocolate brown. His lips became fuller, his face feminine, his hair dark black.

The strange thing was, amidst all the confusion and despair, Richard AKA Isabelle felt sexy, desirable, and extremely feminine. And for each photo taken, she fell more and more into the role of the famous fashion model.

Several hours later Armand was satisfied. "All right, Isabelle, that's enough for today, but don't forget the show in Milan tomorrow. I need you up on that catwalk!"

Belle was waiting for her by the door. "How was your day, darling. Happy?"

She had to admit that she was. "But I am so hungry I could eat a horse," the new Isabelle said.

"Keep on dreaming, baby. This is hell, remember. You have had your last steak. From on there will only be salads and expensive tall asparagus for you. By the way, Richard called."

"Richard?" Vertigo!

"Yes, Richard. Armand's assistant, or former assistant I should say. Turns out he is in Barbados. I can't imagine why. The police has arrested him for drug possession, and he has no ID. You are not to send him his passport, do you understand?"

"Yes, madam," Isabelle replied.

Images from istockphoto. There is absolutely no relationship between the model depicted and the fictional character of this story. Click on cap to enlarge!

SoCalSecret over at Rachel's Haven (a great artist who is modifying comic book covers over at TGComics, sent me an email explaining that there is indeed a word for this art form, namely fumetti. The word comes from the Italian word for comics, "fumetto".

Photo novels are not particularly popular in the US and Northern Europe, but has many followers in Spain, France and Latin America, although I doubt transgender adult stories is a common topic.

3/03/2008

Freya has presented a series of caps made by me set in the Spell Book universe over at her site.

Here is a full length dark and sinister story of forced transformation and sexual slavery that should please many of my readers.

Rebecca

Fred had a friendly face. He was the kind of man you could trust with any secret, but he had also the kind of face people would walk right over.

"Oh, Fred is such a nice guy," the girls would say and then go out with some of the nasty ones.

Fred was the only one of his old college friends that did not manage to finish his degree. He was still delivering pizza, at the tender age of 33.

He had heard the stories about all those sexy women out there that ordered pizza to get to the delivery guy. That had never happened to him, although there had been a couple of sleazy guys making improper propositions.He had to face it. He had given up on women; he had given up on life, and the only thing he looked forward to in the evenings was his flatscreen, a beer and a dirty movie.

"I am a sad fuck," he said to himself and rang the bell.

It was 1 AM and this was his last delivery for the evening.

A dark man with sunglasses opened the door. Who wears sunglasses at midnight? Fred wondered. There were so many weirdos out there that you had to be alert to stay alive. Or at least, that's what his boss said.

"Your pizza, Sir. A big New Orleans with chicken, nachos and salsa!"

"Come in," the man said. "I'll get the money."

He entered a large room with a lot of lights. It was clearly a photographer's studio and the photographer was now at the other end of the room, opening a cupboard."Just put the pizza down on the table over there! I'll be over in a minute. You must be tired. Just sit down on the sofa and get some rest while you are waiting."

He was tired, to tell the truth. It had been one of those horrible traffic days, and he had missed one delivery by five minutes. His loss.

"Take your time!" he said to the man. "This is my last delivery, anyway."

The man took two big books out of the cupboard. That was one strange place to hide money! The books looked old to Fred, with cracked leather.

"Do you have a girl friend?" the man asked him. Fred looked at him and didn't say a word. Was this another creep after all?

"I am just making conversation," the man said. "My name is Ron, by the way. I am asking because I am a fashion photographer, and I see all these beautiful models every day, and I think about how unfair life is."

"Yeah?"

"You know, women do not have to search for love. A woman can only walk into a bar, and there will be five men all over her. Women complain about this all the time, but think about it, how easy it must be if you get lonely and feel the need for company or sex.

"I have all these women around me all the time, but all of them ignore me. I guess I am not rich enough for them."

"Well, tell me about it!" Fred replied. "No, I have no girlfriend either." Maybe this wasn't such a bad man, after all.

"Well," Ron continued. "I have come to the conclusion that every man's search for love is futile, and will lead to nothing but broken hearts, break ups and divorces anyway. But I have found a way to get a woman that is both sexy, beautiful, loyal and willing to follow any command I give her."

"Really?" Fred asked. "Are you going to join the Taliban?"

The man chuckled. "Nah, that's too risky and I guess Afghan women can be as difficult as American ones behind closed doors. No, I am going to make me the perfect lover.

"You see, I recently inherited an old uncle of mine and I found these two volumes in his attic. They are spell books."

Fred started to get up. "Listen man, I would love to talk to you, but I really must be on my way." This was a madman, after all.

"You told me this was your last trip and you have no one waiting for you at home. I am sure you can wait a few minutes.

"You see, I have just realized how they work, and I would like to demonstrate their power to you. I have the money right here." He showed him some bills.

"All right," Fred said. "Show me!" If this man could make a sexy woman out of thin air, it would be a show worth watching.

The photographer started to read long sentences in a archaic language that Fred was unable to understand. The man stopped and looked at Fred, waiting for something, then repeated the words again, with more emphasis.

As soon as the last word left Ron's lips, Fred started convulsing. He fell down on the floor, shaking.

It was like having burning hot needles pushed into your body and Fred screamed in agony: "Please help me, I am in pain! Please make it stop." The pitch of his voice shifted upwards, becoming more and more girlish as he screamed.

He could feel his body changing. He was shrinking, becoming slimmer and slimmer. His hair became dark and silky and started to grow.

For him it felt like hours, but it could have been no more than a few minutes before the cascading hair fell into his face and down his new slim arms.

"Oh God, what are you doing to me?" His uniform was gone and he lay naked on the floor.

He tried to move towards the door, but the shock of feeling tits juggling from his chest made him stop. He grabbed his crotch in panic.

"No, no, no, no!" His fingers found soft pussy lips. His cock was gone. Ron's magic had turned him into a young, beautiful, Hispanic woman.

Ron uttered a few extra words and Fred found that he was wearing jeans and a light blue sweater. He was still shaking, now from fear.

"Turn me back! Turn me back right now, or I will call the police!"

"And tell them what?" Ron was carrying the second book over to Fred.

"Will you tell them that I changed you into a woman? And they would believe you?

"I'll tell you what will happen. They will find a young, Hispanic woman with no identification papers, no green card, no passport and they will ship you over to Mexico before you have had time to say the word 'law suit'.

"You belong to me now. You have nowhere to go!"

Fred made a run for the door, but before he had managed to open it, a new line of strange syllables left Ron's lips. His new body stopped obeying Fred and he froze in the doorway.

"Come back over here!" Ron commanded, and Fred watched helplessly while his long, sexy legs took him over to the couch.

"I'd rather not force you to do anything," Ron said. "But you have been in the exact same position as I have, the only difference being that I have the power. If I have to force you, I will. Now, let's take a look at that beautiful new body of yours, shall we? Lets take a few photos."He found his camera and started to take pictures of Fred.

"Here, let's pretend you are my assistant. Hold this camera!" He was clearly living out one of his fantasies.

Fred did as he was told. He found that if he did this by himself, Ron would not force him.

"Smile to me baby, smile to me!"

Fred managed to force his mouth into something that resembled a smile.

"Now, show me some tit, baby! Show it to me!"

Fred pulled down his sweater and liberated his two soft, round mounds of flesh.

"Touch them!"

Fred marveled at the deep sensual feeling that filled his body when he touched his nipples.

I am really a woman, he said to himself. I am really a young, hot, sexy woman. He had wished for a woman like this for years and years and now he was one. That had never been the plan.

"Stand up, turn around and pull down your pants. I want to take a picture of your sexy ass!"Fred hesitated just a minute, and then Ron forced his body out of the sofa. He could feel himself drag down his jeans and his panties and wriggle his ass in front of Ron.

"Oh God, you are so fucking beautiful! And I can see your pussy. Touch it for me, will you?"

Fred let his hands caress his pussy.

"Stick a finger into it!"

He did, and he felt that it was getting wet. How on earth could his body feel urges in a situation like this?

"As you might have noticed, the spell will make you extra horny. You are a dream come true. My very own nympho slut!"

"Now, take off your jeans and lie down on the floor. Show me your tits and your belly." The flash went off again, bathing Fred in bright light.

"Smile to me baby, smile to me!"

He couldn't help smiling, although he was screaming inside.From this angle, Fred could see a bulge in Ron's pants. He had a huge erection, and in this case the myth about black men having huge cocks seemed to be true.

He had to get out of here, now, before this man violated him.

He stood and made another run for the door. Ron stopped him again. A word was all it took.

"I wish you would stop doing that," he said. "I am not the kind of guy that likes hide and seek sex games. You are my slave now, and you might as well start to enjoy it, because this is your life from now on. As soon as I come inside you, you will be stuck like this forever!"

"I will never have sex with you!" Fred tried to spit at Ron, but failed miserably.

"Of course you will, and your hypersexed body will betray you, and you will enjoy it.

"That will be the ultimate humiliation, won't it? When a white looser like you getting fucked up his pussy with my big black cock!" He was stroking the bulge in his pants now.

"Oh yeah, I have spent my last night alone. You will learn to worship me, bitch, the spells will see to that!"

"This will be rape!" Fred said. "You don't want that on your conscience. How on earth can you live with yourself if you force me to do this?"

"I have too much to be sorry about already," Ron said.

"This won't make much of a difference. At least I will go to hell having had lots of steaming sex!"

He dragged Fred over to the sofa.

"You need a new name," Ron told him while he pushed him face forwards over the sofa and pulled down his panties.

"You need a new hot Spanish sounding name. I will call you Carmen. How do you feel about that, Carmen?"

Somehow it sounded right to Fred, but he didn't dare to say so.

He flinched when he felt Ron's hands touch his vagina. Then he felt Ron's tongue licking his pussy lips, exploring them, sucking them. Then Ron's lips touched his clit.

Fred could feel his body betray him, just as Ron has predicted. He could feel his body getting warm, his face hot, and his nipples stiff in anticipation.

I am a man, damn it, Fred thought. I have never even entertained the thought of having sex with a man, and now my body get aroused by the fact that a man is desiring me?

But he had a woman's body now, and this woman was as heterosexual as he had ever been as a man.

Oh God, he is going to put that huge thing inside me, he is going to fuck me, he is going to, oooough!

Fred could feel the tip of Ron's penis touch his pussy. He tried to get away, but the spell wouldn't let him. Then the cock was starting to slide inside him. It was the most alien of feelings.

Fred tried to grab his cock and stop it from entering him, but the feeling of having his hand around Ron's shaft made him even more aroused.

This cannot be happening to me, it cannot!

But it did, and he could feel Ron push deeper and deeper into his body, and since his pussy was wet from the barrage of hormones streaming through his new body, there wasn't much pain.

Whatever kind of sick logic was governing the black magic of the spell books, it had definitely not made him a virgo intacta.

Then Ron started to thrust his cock into him with a steady rhythm. He was strong, and even without the magic Fred new Ron would be able to overpower him.

Fred could feel his tits bouncing, and he grabbed his right breast just to stop the movement. Why, he couldn't say, as it didn't help him the least. His nipple sent pulses of electricity down to his toes, and he could feel waves of lust ripple through his body.

He could hear himself moan in sync with Ron's thrusts.

"Oh, you like it now, don't you bitch? You like having my big cock inside your tight pussy? You like being rammed by a stallion like me!"

Hadn't the whole situation been such a tragedy, Fred would have laughed of Ron's porn clichés, but he couldn't. Instead he could feel his pussy contract in one intense orgasm after the other.

At that moment the balance tipped over and he could feel his mind sliding down the slippery slope of feminization. Fred tried desperately to hold on to his male self, but the magic, his new body and his libido overwhelmed him.

Strangely enough, it was not Ron's dick that made the difference, but the sweet sensation of his silky hair brushing his cheek and the touch of the soft wool of the sweater against his delicate skin. Fred surrendered.

Carmen bent over and thrust her ass towards Ron, urging him deeper and deeper.

She could feel herself smile as Ron fucked her. She was starting to enjoy this. She was starting to enjoy being this man's love toy.

Ron did the best he could, and continued to move his pelvis back and forth, back and forth.

Carmen was crying now, in both ecstasy and despair, as her new body and her old soul tried to make truce and become a new, whole, human being.

She noticed that the orgasms had pushed the timidity of Fred far back in her mind, and a new Latin temperament had taken control. This woman was furious; he was furious; she was furious.

Ron might have the magic power of the spell books, but she had the magic power of womanhood now, and she new which force was the strongest one.She pushed Ron over on his back, and straddled him, urging him to push his cock inside her. She started to ride him, unable to get all of him inside her -- he was too big for that. She was in full control.

Something Ron had said was nagging her mind. Something important. Something about the changes not being permanent before he came inside her.

And she was urging him! She had to stop! She had to stop now before it was too late! But at the same time the power of her new body overwhelmed her.

Did she really want to remain a lonely pizza guy for the rest of her life? Did she really want to let go of these feelings? It was all slavery, one way or the other.

But no, she couldn't let this man keep her as a slave, she had to stop him!

Her body betrayed her again. She didn't stop moving up and down his shaft, and she could hear him moan as he shot his load inside her.

She could feel her body and soul settle, becoming Carmen, a woman of passion and strong will.

She would do what women have always done with men like Ron, she would stroke his ego and his dick and get him to do what she wanted. The battle between the magic of Carmen and the magic of the spell books had begun.

Pictures by Bangbros.com. For a captioneer Bangbros is heaven sent, as it brings you a large number of pictures that just beg you to be part of a TG story.

There is absolutely no relationship between the models depicted and the characters of this story.

The growth of the TG fiction community is clearly demonstrated by all the trouble the TG story sites are experiencing. They are kneeling, one after the other.

The mother of them all, Fictionmania, is slow on the best of days, but has now become close to inaccessible, especially on Sundays.

In a message on the Yahoo! TG Fiction group, Vickie of the FM Task Force reports that Fictionmania is in no way dead, but the overloaded primary server (which provides the home page and the titles and descriptive matter by day, author, etc.) gets impossible on Sundays, with multiple timeouts when in maximum use:

"Our overtasked founder Mindy has about finished programming a newer larger one with the same URL but has yet to take it to a server farm to live forever as we would wish. Or at least longer than the current one."The secondary archival text server, the one that delivers the story files, is working fast enough, but it does need to be reached via the slow primary.

I guess the message is that we all have to be patient. I am just grateful that Mindy, Vicky & Co do all this volunteer work on their spare time.